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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330841">i'm nothing but a problem, leave you crying overnight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlattcoindealer/pseuds/schlattcoindealer'>schlattcoindealer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Alcohol Makes You Boring [Wilbur-Centric Alt. FD!AU] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>"Family Dynamics" AU, Adoption, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Phil is trying, Underage Drinking, Unhappy Ending, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, implied suicidal thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlattcoindealer/pseuds/schlattcoindealer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wilbur Soot is a problem child. He knows this, of course – only problem children get put in the system in the first place. It’s not a role he likes playing – why would it be? – but it’s one he’s come to accept through his years in the foster system. His ‘problems’ pile up dauntingly, hanging over his head like a damning record of sins. He’s too snappy. He’s too irresponsible. He’s too standoffish. He’s too untrustworthy. </p><p>He’s a burden."</p><p>After getting fostered by Phil, Wilbur is reluctant to settle into his new family, constantly aware of his burdensome nature on the household. Bad decisions turn into bad habits, and Wilbur spirals past the point of saving.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Alcohol Makes You Boring [Wilbur-Centric Alt. FD!AU] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>313</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i'm nothing but a problem, leave you crying overnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Follow the tags' warnings. There's no fluff here for you, traveller.</p><p>Heavy Trigger Warnings for:<br/>- Implied Past Child Abuse<br/>- Underage Drinking<br/>- Underage Alcoholism<br/>- Vague Implication of Suicidal Thoughts (at the end).</p><p>If you're sensitive to any of those things, SKIP THIS FIC. You can't avoid them here.<br/>Thank you. Enjoy!</p><p>-- Title from "Your Sister Was Right" by Wilbur Soot.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilbur Soot is a problem child. He knows this, of course – only problem children get put in the system in the first place. It’s not a role he likes playing – why would it be? – but it’s one he’s come to accept through his years in the foster system. His ‘problems’ pile up dauntingly, hanging over his head like a damning record of sins. He’s too snappy. He’s too irresponsible. He’s too standoffish. He’s too untrustworthy. </p><p>He’s a burden. </p><p>The foster system is full of burdens, actually. Adults like to pretend that’s not the case, that each and every one of them has potential, but Wilbur isn’t stupid. He knows when he’s being lied to. Since the age of thirteen, Wilbur has known very clearly that he is a burden, and he always will be. </p><p>It’s a shame, he thinks. Some of the families he’s disappointed weren’t half bad. The last home was almost tolerable, but they’d been strict, overbearing, smothering in their support for the teen. Wilbur had caused his worst problems there under the pressure. Even he’s not proud to admit it, and normally he was very upfront about his problematic actions. It was difficult to be proud of getting drunk, after all.</p><p>His newest foster house is nice. Almost too nice, actually. Wilbur doesn’t want to get attached to it though, not really. Phil is different to the other guardians he’s known – he seems to actually give a shit about the kids he cares about, for whatever reason. Maybe he’s a bit of a fool, to place hope in a human-shaped problem. Phil ought to know better than anyone else that Wilbur will just create issues then leave, and yet he never seemed to blame him for it. Phil just offered silent support and a sense of stability.</p><p>There’s another brother, too. Perfect in every way, he is. Wilbur isn’t sure if he should like Techno or envy him. After all, he has it good. He’s got a good mind for school, a good foster home, an adoptive dad who loves him unconditionally – everything Wilbur would have killed for when he was put into the system for the first time. He doesn’t talk to his ‘brother’ much, not at the start – Techno is quiet, analytical, and just generally weird. Wilbur doesn’t have time for weird.</p><p>At first, Wilbur tries to play into his usual basic problematic archetype. Maybe if he gets kicked out quickly, he won’t ruin this poor kind man’s life. He’ll free up a space in the house for some other kid who deserves the care, and then he can go back into the system for a good two more years of suffering. He’s worse than usual in the first two weeks – it’s not long before he’s already started sneaking out to meet up with old friends who are just as problematic as he is.</p><p>They’re a good bunch together, Wilbur thinks. They’re unwanted, and they know it, so who cares if they fuck things up? It’s not like they can disappoint society any more than they already have. The teen doesn’t take into consideration that perhaps his friends are an awful influence on him, because why should he care? Why should Phil care for him? Why should anybody give a single shit about his existence, including himself?</p><p>He’s sixteen, and the bad habits are already picking up. He’s sixteen, and he’s already failed at life.</p><p>Learning the route to sneak into the house was easy. Every night, Phil encourages him to leave his bedroom window open a little to air his room out. That’s the break he needs – after the first few nights, Wilbur is a pro at parkouring up to his bedroom window and crawling back in undetected, even when he’s not fully sober yet. He knows Techno is very aware of his nightly excursions, but Wilbur finds he doesn’t care, silently hoping that the silent boy will rat him out to Phil and get him kicked out already.</p><p>He doesn’t, though, and so the days go on, and Wilbur finds himself becoming more daring, more desperate in his attempts at leaving. What was once light drinking, a group of teens testing the waters, turns heavier and heavier, and it’s a problem – god, it’s such a big problem. Wilbur knows his grades are slipping. He knows Phil is worried, but the adult is never brave enough to speak up. Maybe he's scared of being overbearing like his last guardians were. </p><p>That’s one issue with his parenting – he’s not proactive enough. The thought of it is enough to make the teen a little angry, actually. Phil never raises his voice, never asserts his dominance in the household, never deals out a punishment harsher than ‘do the dishes tonight’. Wilbur just wants his guardian to snap at him already, to unleash the disappointment he knows he’s hiding deep down. It’s going to come eventually – what’s the harm in wanting the storm to be sooner rather than later? Wilbur doesn’t want to get comfortable. He’s not the type of kid who *can* get comfortable. He was doomed to a life of wandering and chaos the moment he learned to speak.</p><p>He feels empty as he stares into a glass of drink, the moonlight dull and hollow over his head. Tonight marks the one month anniversary of the begin to his stay at Phil’s. It’s a record of some sort, actually, but that just serves to make him feel worse about everything.</p><p>Taking a sip, he winces as he realises he can barely feel a burn anymore. It’s so cold tonight. It’s too cold.</p><p>--</p><p>Phil is waiting for Wilbur when he gets back. He’s pulled a chair into his room, and he’s sitting, waiting with a look on his face that Wilbur can’t quite place in the haze of drink. As soon as his guardian spots his completely wasted state, his expression seems to lift into one of genuine concern, and for some reason, that seems to sicken him. Wilbur doesn’t like being pitied.</p><p>“What,” he speaks up first, feeling as if he’s not quite in his body right. “What do you want.” It’s hardly a question, more of a bitter command.</p><p>“You’re drunk,” Phil says, surprise evident in his voice, and Wilbur narrows his eyes.</p><p>“So what?” he retorts, venom dripping from his words. “Maybe I am.”</p><p>There are a few moments of silent as Phil seems to consider what to say next, most of his prep evidently having gone out the door upon his arrival. Wilbur thinks with a note of bitter victory that this is probably it – that this is where this kind man breaks and finally ships him off to be someone else’s problem. Who wants to be shouldered with the borderline alcoholic teenager as a son? </p><p>“How long have you been out for? Why didn’t you tell me?” he settles on, clearly still trying to make heads or tails of the situation as he tries to make eye contact with Wilbur. The teenager bristles, looking away with a sharp movement.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” is all he replies with, crossing his arms. </p><p>“It does matter,” Phil tries. “You’re my son. I care about you. I want to help you.”</p><p>There’s another beat of silence, this one significantly more pronounced than the last.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” Wilbur repeats, his voice shaky, and he doesn’t sound as sure as he did last time. “It doesn’t. Stop pretending you care about me.”</p><p>Phil stands up at that, reaching out in an obvious attempt to offer physical reassurance. Memories of previous households, of less-than-gentle adults and well-deserved punishments, flash through Wilbur’s mind in an instant, and he recoils before Phil can even get near him, his hands trembling violently.</p><p>“Don’t touch me.” he practically snarls, eyes suddenly wide and scared and unfocused. Phil backs away, and this time, Wilbur can hardly stand to see the concern on his face. “Just… leave me alone. Leave me alone!” His shoulders shake with the intensity of the command, and he wonders idly if Techno can hear this as well before he refocuses on the man in front of him.<br/>
Will Phil be more proactive? Or will he place his blind trust on his son yet again?</p><p>“…Okay.” his guardian says, voice quiet and almost-defeated. “Sleep well, Will. We can talk when you’re sober.”</p><p>Of course.</p><p>Wilbur watches as Phil backs out of his room slowly, leaving the chair where it stood in the middle of the carpet. He closes the door behind him, closing out any of the remainder light in the setting, and there are a few moments of still as his footsteps quietly and uncertainly patter away.</p><p>Sliding down his wall in a defeated slump, Wilbur runs his hands through his hair, his breaths deep and unsteady and troubled. He can’t take it here anymore, he thinks. Phil is too kind for his own sake, and Wilbur keeps hurting him, and it’s the worst feeling in the world knowing he’s caused this conflict in the house.</p><p>A silent sob leaves his body as tears dribble quietly down his cheek, icy cold and crystal clear. They drip from his chin, soaking into his raggedy jacket as they fall.</p><p>Wilbur wonders just how much alcohol it would take to end his problems, once and for all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Was tempted to make this end in comfort. Then, I thought, actually, let's suffer tonight.<br/>Standard rules apply: If you see a typo, no you don't.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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